MASS IN C MAJOR, K262
INTRODUCTION
Sometime in 1774, Archbishop Colloredo told Mozart he had no musical future in Salzburg, but refused to release him from his employ. A timely opera commission from Elector Max Joseph of Bavaria could not be ignored politically, and Wolfgang and Leopold were granted yet another leave of absence to go to Munich from December, 1774, to March, 1775, where they again desperately sought a more prestigious position—again in vain. They would spend the next two and one-half years exclusively in Salzburg until Leopold’s next leave request, which would result in both of them being fired.
Wolfgang wrote five masses in C major in relatively short order in 1775 and 1776: the numbers “K220″, “K257″, “K258″, “K259″, and “K262” reflect their presumed compositional sequence in the original Köchel catalogue. Dates on the autograph scores were found to have been smudged, altered, or missing entirely. Those wonderful scholars have recently compared watermarks on five types of paper Mozart used on these masses with works whose dates are known more precisely and now strongly feel that the order of composition of the masses was “K262″, “K220″, “K258″, “K259″, and “K257″.
“K262” and “K167” are Mozart’s two longest non-cantata masses, both with performance times of about thirty minutes. “K262” attains its length partly through a couple of orchestral introductions, the relatively leisurely tempos of the Gloria and the Credo, the extensive Type II choruses at the ends of the Gloria and the Credo, and, like “K167″, a long Credo—about twelve minutes in each case (by way of contrast, the entire “K65” mass runs about thirteen minutes).
“K262” is now fairly certain to be from mid-1775, although no known event is associated with its first performance. You would think that Leopold really would have kept better records about these things, but then church works carried little prestige—and more importantly to him, no commission. Some scholars think “K262” was performed in the cathedral, but others point to the length, the unusually large orchestra, and the extensive Type II writing to suggest a venue outside the archbishop’s direct influence, such as the Benedictine Church of St. Peter.
In an additional nudge in that direction, for our purposes, there is some musical humor similar to that in “K66” which again suggests the possibility of private jokes with Father Cajetan Hagenauer, Wolfgang’s old friend, who would certainly have been in attendance at St. Peter and even perhaps have been officiating. “Wrong” syllables are stressed in the same part of “Qui tollis” as in “K66″. The chorus enter at the “wrong” place and in the “wrong” rhythm all over the place in the Benedictus’s “Hosanna”, making it very hard to sing along to. And to round it all out, there is some annoying violin music in the Kyrie and a booming timpani beat at the otherwise peaceful conclusion of “Qui tollis”.
The scoring is for two oboes, two horns, two trumpets in C, timpani, violins, basses, organ continuo, and three trombones doubling the alto, tenor, and bass vocal parts. It lacks only two more trumpets and the dreaded violas to match the sumptuous scoring of “K66″.
I have here chosen musical examples from the Kegel recording, as I think Matt misses the boat on both the “Et in spiritum sanctum” section of the Credo and the entirety of Benedictus, playing both too fast and missing the lyrical dreaminess inherent in the music. I will mention Harnoncourt’s dreadful Sanctus in a bit.
KYRIE
The merry Kyrie, in duple time, showcases in turn the talents of the orchestra, the chorus, and the solo quartet. The orchestra open with a kind of mini-overture introducing three of its own prominent themes. The first is associated with the “Kyrie” parts and the second with the “Christe” parts. The third, which has a “skipping” sound, has no relationship to the rest of the music and appears to exist solely to irritate the singers (and make Cajetan chuckle into his chasuble?).
There is a general five-part structure, which we have seen before: “Kyrie”—”Christe”—”Kyrie”—”Christe”—”Kyrie”. The chorus sing all the parts to the words “Kyrie eleison”. Not only is the beginning of “Kyrie eleison” strongly Type II, there is not the usual one but two imitative themes going simultaneously, with the basses and sopranos singing one and the tenors and altos singing the other. The solo quartet sing all the parts to the words “Christe eleison“, all in Type I fashion.
About midway in the movement, when everyone has had a turn singing, the orchestra flounce in with the annoying skipping theme. The mood of the chorus turns suddenly serious and they appear to rebuke the orchestra for their lack of decorum with several angry cries of “Kyrie” followed by an attempt to drown them out with a variation of their opening material in the minor mode. However, the chorus do not stay mad for long, modulating back to the major mode, and the infectious mood soon returns. They all sing their parts again and when the orchestra play the annoying theme one more time, the chorus simply ignore it and proceed to a jolly conclusion.
GLORIA
By now, we are learning to listen to the first few seconds of the Gloria and Credo of a Mozart mass in case there are themes which may recur later. In the first thirty seconds of this Gloria, there are theme fragments at “Gloria in excelsis Deo” (Theme A), “Bonae voluntatis” (Theme B), and “Laudamus te” (Theme C) which will recur, but most of the themes of the five sections of this movement are independent of each other. This first section is in duple time, with the chorus singing in joyful Type I style.
The solo quartet take the next section at “Domine Deus“, also in duple time. It sounds at first as if it might be an ingenuous song for soprano, but she is soon joined by dense Type II imitation in the other voices, trailing off to just the soprano again at the end. The orchestra take a brief bow and bring things to a quiet close.
“Qui tollis“, in triple time for Type I chorus, is majestic and serious and, as so often, is the emotional heart of the Gloria. This is presented as an extended recitative for chorus with each phrase of the text carefully and expressively set. The soft phrases are set off from the loud ones as a sort of antiphonal structure. Mozart intentionally has the chorus (and orchestra) sing alternately “suddenly loud, then soft”, putting a jolting, ungrammatical stress on the unaccented second and fourth syllables of “de-PRE-ca-TI-o-nem“. Compare this to the similar mangling of “mi-SE-re-RE” and “susci-PE de-pre-CA-TI-o-nem” in “K66″, again suggesting a poke at a quirk in Cajetan’s pronunciation.
The section ends quietly and reverently—almost.
Duple time returns for the rest of the movement after an unceremonious loud bang on the timpani wakes everybody up. The “Quoniam” section brings back, in rapid succession, Theme A, Theme C, and Theme B in that order, again for Type I chorus.
The last section is an extended Type II chorus for “Cum Sancto Spiritu“, in which the chorus get to show off their best stuff and also have a good time to the delight of everyone—except, of course, the archbishop. I’m thinking he was out of town.
CREDO
There are six distinct sections grouped by tempo and mood. These begin at the words “Credo in unum Deum” (moderate triple time), “Et incarnatus est” (moderate duple), “Et resurrexit” (frenetic duple) “Et in Spiritum Sanctum” (moderate triple), “Et unam sanctam catholicam” (moderate triple), and “Et vitam venturi saeculi” (brisk duple).
The six themes which recur are presented in just over a minute. The only reason it takes even this long is that Mozart pauses to expand upon the lovely Theme 4 for a full twenty seconds. All the themes are sung by Type I chorus except Theme 4, which is for various soloists. The opening notes of the Credo sound much like the opening notes of the Gloria, but they are not quite the same. Actually, if you take the first, second, third, fifth, eighth, and ninth notes of the beginning of the Gloria, you will get the first six consecutive notes of the Credo. I don’t know why would you want to do that, but that’s why they sound similar.
Theme 1 is on the words “Credo in unum Deum”; Theme 2, “Visibilium omnium”; Theme 3, “Et invisibilium”; Theme 4, “Et in unum Dominum” (soprano and tenor only); Theme 5, “Et ex Patre”; and Theme 6, “Deum de Deo“. Beginning with Theme 6, there is an interplay of four themes: Theme 6, “Deum de Deo, lumen de lumine”; Theme 2, “Deum verum de Deo vero”; Theme 6, “Genitum, non factum”; Theme 2, “Consubstantialem Patri”; and Theme 3, “per quem omnia facta sunt”. The soloists return, adding the alto, with Theme 4 at “Qui propter nos homines”. The chorus finish the section with a nice descending theme at “Descendit de caelis“.
A lyrical duple time “Et incarnatus est” for solo quartet alternating Type II and I elements and a dramatic “Crucifixus” for Type I chorus form the second section.
In a shorter movement, “Et resurrexit” would likely bring back some opening themes and proceed to a relatively quick conclusion. Here is neither the moderate triple time of the first section nor the slow duple time of the second. The time remains duple and the chorus sing quickly, almost urgently, as if trying to make up for lost time. They brush aside “Et ascendit” without a thought and seem about to sprint for the finish. The music does become subdued, although the pace does not slacken, for “et mortuos“. The repeated “non” in “non erit finis” has previously been a playful signature of Mozart’s, but here the words are declaimed so quickly by alternating choral groups that they have more the effect of shouting, “Outa my way! Coming through!”
Then the music suddenly stops; there will be no sprint. Mozart has discovered another theme and, as if a bright and shiny object on the ground, he cannot help but pick it up and play with it. “Et in Spiritum Sanctum” is the same text that gave the Credo of “K167” its disproportionate length and stylistic sore thumb, but here, at least under Kegel’s direction, the music meanders along for three glorious minutes, fitting seamlessly with the rest of the movement. As noted in the Introduction, Matt’s version is faster and breezier than the music wants, and misses the dreamy quality that Kegel conveys. The moderate tempo, triple time, and simple harmonies of the opening of the Credo return, suggesting a recurring theme, perhaps the soloists’ lovely Theme 4. However, this is music all its own. Mozart has not given us an ingenuous song for some time and this one is worth waiting for. And while the soprano is weaving gorgeous melodies with the orchestra, she is also carrying on an antiphonal dialogue with the chorus and their answers of hymnlike simplicity nearly steal the whole show.
A brief orchestral interlude eases us into the fifth section so gently that we don’t even notice it until the unmistakable sounds of Theme 1 greet our ears with the words “Et unam sanctam catholicam“. In rapid succession come Theme 2 at “Confiteor unam baptisma” and Theme 3 at “In remissionem peccatorum”. Theme 4 at “Et exspecto resurrectionem” finally adds the bass soloist, completing the quartet. Even Theme 5, which was fairly shouted the first time around, makes a modified appearance in subdued fashion for “Mortuorum“. Theme 6 might have made another appearance as well, but the Gloria has run out of all but the last few words, which as usual have their own section.
The chorus finish with a big, rousing Type II chorus on “Et vitam venturi saeculi“. Now I’m certain the archbishop was not only out of town, but in Rome visiting the pope.
SANCTUS
Although the triple-time Sanctus for chorus runs a scant one and one-quarter minutes, it has a tidy little structure. There is one brief theme for “Sanctus“, a second for “Dominus Deus Sabbaoth“, and a third for “Pleni sunt coeli“. The music is lilting and the trills in the violins lend a playful touch. There is a brief Type II treatment of “Hosanna” followed by a Type I treatment using the second and first themes from the opening in that order to conclude the movement.
Since there are over forty repetitions of “Hosanna” here, we have another opportunity in our continuing exploration (see “K66” and “K167“) of Donald Francis Tovey’s claim that in order “…to mock the pronunciation of some friend of his in a certain Mass …”, Mozart places a very loud stress on the third syllable of “Hosanna” “… at every single one of the forty or fifty repetitions of the word”. If Tovey knows what he’s talking about, it’s not here either (though, as in “K66”, Mozart does stress “wrong” syllables in “Qui tollis”). We’ll have one more look in “K257“.
As an example of how different conductors’ interpretations can be, listen to Harnoncourt’s take on this movement: “Sanctus“; “Hosanna“. It sounds like a funeral dirge—or, for those of us of a certain age, a 45 RPM record played at 33 RPM. What was he thinking?
BENEDICTUS
The triple-time Benedictus has a simple structure: five repetitions of “Benedictus qui venit in nomine Domine” by one or more members of the solo quartet alternating with five repetitions of “Hosanna” by the chorus.
All we need to do with this gentle lullaby is close our eyes and let it rock us to sleep—unless we are listening to the version by Matt, which is more suitable for jogging on a treadmill.
What factors might account for Harnoncourt’s Sanctus and Matt’s Benedictus, both marked Andantino? Since the metronome was not invented until twenty-four years after Mozart’s death, performers have had to rely on other methods to know what he meant by such tempo words as Allegro, Moderato, or Andante. Andantino, even in the era of the metronome, sometimes means “a little faster than Andante” (“at a walking pace”) and sometimes “a little slower than Andante”.
Mozart was meticulous about his tempo markings, often scratching one out in favor of a second or even a third, probably in conjunction with discussions with performers. He even, either playfully or in a hissy fit of some sort, went so far as to label the Rondo of his flute quartet in A major”, “K 298”: “Rondieaoux/Allegretto grazioso, ma non troppo presto, però non troppo adagio. Così-così-con molto garbo ed espressione” (“Rondo-meow/Allegretto grazioso but not too presto, but not too adagio, either. So-so—with much charm and expression”).
There is an amazing area of research along these lines. Those wonderful scholars have assembled a database of more than 1,500 tempo markings in Mozart’s own hand and cross-referenced them with his and others’ comments about performance practice. This has led to a theory that his tempo indications are only a part of what determines the rate of the beat. A common manner of playing can be inferred by grouping musical movements which use the same meter, same smallest note value, and same tempo word. The results are then offered for study by modern-day performers.
This may just be a more elegant way of saying that the music on the page “says” how it wants to sound. It is still up to the interpretation of performers to make it work. And, fortunately for us, we as listeners have the final say in whether it does.
So back to the Benedictus, where we were in the process of starting to be rocked to sleep. “Hosanna” here is not a repetition of the music coupled with “Sanctus”, as is usual, but is a separate setting embedded in the lullaby. If we open one eye and listen just below the surface, there is considerable, if subtle, evidence of Mozart’s mischievousness in the chorus. Each of the chorus’s quiet entrances comes right after a different measure beat (one, two, or three), making it sound as if they don’t know when they are supposed to start singing. The slow, even triple time of the soloists is easy to count, but the first notes of the chorus come in just after the second, first, third, second, and again first beat respectively following the soloists’ passages.
In addition, the choral groups do not all come in at the same time. One group will sing “Hosanna” and another group will not start the word until the third syllable of the first group. This makes it sound as if they have gone into duple time and really don’t know what they’re doing. The closely set imitation further makes it sound as if they have to improvise extra syllables in order to come out even. This is particularly noticeable on the fifth and final repetition above where the words come out “Hosanna in ex in ex in excelsis”.
But finally, at the very end (again, last example above) are two measures of perfect triple time as if to say, “See? We knew what we were doing all the time”. All this is delivered in perfect deadpan with hands clasped and eyes sweetly heavenward. “Sing along to that, Cajetan!”
AGNUS DEI
It’s back to business for “Agnus Dei“. The music is Type I, stately and straightforward: three repetitions of “Agnus Dei” separated by two of “Miserere nobis”. Except for the first brief cries of each “Miserere” by the solo soprano, the chorus do all the singing.
DONA NOBIS PACEM
After a pause, the mood turns lighthearted and even giddy for “Dona nobis pacem”. It is sung as sort of a curtain call or encore in which the soloists make brief appearances both singly and together with answering phrases by the chorus and also by the orchestra. The bass pops up everywhere and especially seems to wag his finger and wink at us. After all, the soprano gets four solo passages, the alto one, and the tenor three, but he gets six! That has never happened before in a mass movement and won’t again. I’m guessing Cajetan was a bass. At the conclusion, everyone links hands and takes a final bow.
–06/23/2014
